


Blood on my Name

by whisky_and_lace



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anger, Attempted Murder, British Military, Brotherly Bonding, Corruption, Crimes & Criminals, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Dynamics, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Gangsters, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Military, Mother-Son Relationship, Murder, Organized Crime, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Peaky Blinders AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Post-World War II, Protective Older Brothers, Shame, Survivor Guilt, United Kingdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisky_and_lace/pseuds/whisky_and_lace
Summary: Updated every Tuesday!It was 1945, two months after the end of World War II.Tommy Shelby, now in his mid-50s, had finally reached a point in his life where he was able to breathe. With two sons, able to handle the leg work of his businesses, the aging gentleman had loved having enough time to be a traditional family man. Grace had been instrumental in slowing his lifestyle down and he seemed thankful as the years had gone by.The boys, in every way, were carbon copies of Tommy in his younger years. It was something their mother both loved and hated...Once a Shelby, always a Shelby.[This story follows Charlie and Damon Shelby and their pursuit of keeping their father's legacy alive.]
Relationships: Grace Burgess/Tommy Shelby
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. A Time to Readjust

**Author's Note:**

> 
>     Best viewed **_NOT_** on mobile.
>           
>     Tommy, aged 55; Grace, aged 51, Charlie, aged 23, Damon, aged 19.
>     

* * *

_There's a reckonin' a-comin'  
And it burns beyond the grave  
Lead inside my belly  
'cause my soul has lost its way_

_When the fires have surrounded you,  
And the Hounds of Hell are comin' after you,  
When the fires are consumin' you,  
And your sacred stars won't be guiding you,  
I've got blood,   
I've got blood on my name. _

_Not a spell gonna be broken,  
With a potion or a priest.  
When you're cursed you're always hopin',  
That a prophet would be grieved. _

_Oh, Lazarus  
How did your debts get paid?  
_

* * *

8th of November, 1945

"Have you any idea where the boys are?" Grace Shelby was massaging her temple when she had asked the maid the question. The other woman had no answer but only remarked on the last time she had seen the two Shelby heirs. “Thank you, Sarah. Just leave that tea there, I'm going to step out for a moment.” Sitting behind her desk, amid a mountain of mail, Grace decided it would be a good time for a break. She needed a favour run in Birmingham and wondered if she could get one of her sons to agree to help her. However, she hadn’t seen either of them since breakfast and it was now half-past one in the afternoon.

* * *

Charlie was asleep in his father’s office with an open book laid on his chest. He was stretched out on the leather sofa where he had been for the past hour. Since returning from Germany Tommy’s eldest son had struggled with settling into civilian life. The war had been worse than anyone had ever expected and having seen the horrors firsthand, Charlie had a lot to recover from. No one had pushed him nor pried for information or war stories. Everyone still tried to walk on eggshells around Charlie but sometimes all it did was piss him off. 

Today had been a decent day for him and the mid-afternoon catnap was becoming a bit of a habit. He wouldn’t admit it outright, but Charlie found comfort in the office, with his father. Charlie’s younger brother Damon had been lucky enough to skirt enlistment and for that, the whole family had been thankful; there had been enough loss in those years of war to go around.

Tommy had returned from a meeting in his drawing room and was now returning to his office to over-see what had arrived in the post. What he discovered when he walked in made him smile even though he had grown accustomed to the unannounced but quiet company. 

A veteran himself, Tommy new the fear associated with war and had worried every day till his son returned home. He had done his best to remain stoic during the entire ordeal and only Grace had witnessed his moments of weakness and the emotional breakdowns. Tommy was fearful of the night terrors his eldest was experiencing, just as he had in the years that followed the end of the Great War. He knew his son; knew how guarded and secretive he could be. If Charlie didn’t want to talk about something he wouldn’t and no amount of prodding would crack him. 

Taking a seat, Tommy started in on the stack of letters that sat neatly in the center of his desk. Just then, Charlie adjusted his position, causing the book to fall from his chest and onto the floor. The sudden /thud/ jolted the young man awake in a panic and in a split second his feet were on the floor, his heart pounding.

“Hey, hey, it’s a’right- Charlie- Charlie, it’s a’right. Your book fell, that’s all.” Tommy had risen from his desk to comfort the young man whose chest was now heaving. 

Charlie’s blue eyes searched his father’s face to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. His skin had gone pale and a prickling of sweat had dampened his brow. He hated to sleep and tried everything he can to stay up through the night and catch a nap during the day. Ony Tommy knew this and understood exactly where his son was coming from. He had promised Charlie wouldn’t tell his mother about anything related to his struggles but did express his own worries to his son.

Tommy sat down, his hand resting in the middle of Charlie’s back. “Did you take your medication?”

“It doesn’t work.” He sighed deeply, his elbows falling to rest upon his knees. “Nothing works but the alcohol.” 

His father knew that battle and it broke his heart to hear such things said in a very sincere tone of voice. Tommy’s eyes fell closed, letting his hand rest on Charlie’s shoulder. 

When a knock sounded at the office’s door, Tommy was the one to answer it. 

“Yes?”

“Are you busy?” Asked Grace, waiting for her husband’s permission to enter, knowing it was possible he was too busy to be interrupted. 

Tommy looked to his son and whispered, “You a’right?” And once he nodded Tommy gave his wife the go-ahead to come in. “Is something wrong?”

“I could ask both of you the same thing. Charlie...?”

“I ‘ave a headache is all. I’m fine.” He sat back upright after pulling the discarded book from the ground.  
  
“I was going to ask you if you’d be willing to run an errand for me, but I’ll go ask your brother.”

“It’s fine, mum- I can take him with me. What do you need done?”

She hesitated for a moment but after realizing how headstrong he could be decided just to let it all out, “I need a large deposit made and some equally large ones picked up about Birmingham.”

“Sure, just get me the locations.” 

From her right hand, she passed him a few white envelopes. “Locations are written on each one.”

Charlie just nodded, stood, and made his way for the door. “We’ll try and get back before dinner.”

“Be careful, love,” said Grace with a weak smile, her worry very evident in her expression. Once the door had closed she turned to Tommy but he already anticipated her questions. 

“You know how I was, Grace. It’s no different than with Charlie.”

“I didn’t want him to go, Tommy.” Her eyes welled with tears just thinking about everything her son had been forced to go through. He was still her baby and likely would always remain as such until she died. 

“None of us did, but he had to- He’s our son; he’d serve his country the same as he does this family.”

She leaned into him hard; his arms wrapping around her waist in comfort. He'd do anything to take her tears away but there was nothing he could do about Charlie and it killed him to realize how hopeless he felt in that situation. 

* * *

“Damon?” Charlie stood outside his brother’s room, hoping he was inside as he wasn’t in the mood to look high and low about the estate. When the door swung open, his little brother appeared, obviously confused by seeing Charlie calling on him. 

“You look like shit,” Damon said with a laugh. “Everything a’right?”

Damon had picked up the majority of their father’s mannerisms although his voice was of a higher tone, unlike Charlie’s that was low. The two boys put together had been everything Tommy had been at their age: trouble. Most days they meant well but they were still Shelby’s all the same. Mischief and violence were always right around the corner when these two were concerned. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Getting tired of everyone asking, Charlie side-stepped any explanation and got straight to the point. “Mum’s got some errands for us to run in Birmingham. We’re on a bit of time restraint so we need to be off-”

“I’m drivin’!” Damon narrowly missed hitting his brother’s shoulder on his way out the door as he sprinted off towards the garage. The boy had a love affair with cars and their father had no shortage of beautiful machines to choose from. 

“Anything you do to that car is on my head, Damon. Even a scratch will get the both of us dead-” But Damon was already out earshot of Charlie’s speech. It was bound to be one hell of an afternoon of being errand boys...


	2. Back to Birmingham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>     Regardless of response to this little side story, thank you to anyone who has enjoyed it. Seriously, it means a lot to have _anyone_ read my works.
> 
> 💕

* * *

Either Damon had taken a shortcut Charlie had forgotten or his brother had straight sprinted to the garage. Charlie, even though he knew there wasn’t a whole lot of time to fuck around wasn’t sharing his brother’s excitement or energy level. He was thankful at least that Damon had agreed to accompany him; had he refused, Charlie wasn’t sure that he would have had the initiative otherwise. 

“You sure you’re a’right, Charlie?”

“Yes, mum, I’m right as fuckin’ rain.”

“Ya didn’t ‘ave ta get so short. I was only askin’.”

The Shelby boys pulled away in their father’s black Mercedes and headed off towards Birmingham. The city had seen a great deal of pain during the war with bombing raids a near-constant, much like the rest of the country. Thankfully, their family home had only suffered minor damages and had since been repaired. 

“Did she say what this was for?” Damon was apprehensive about saying anything more to his brother but he couldn’t help but be a little curious. 

“Nothing besides that they’re deposits so I’m sure it’s for her rebuilding effort.”

“Yeah, probably.” He paused for a second, trying to find the courage to speak. “Look, Charlie- I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’ve just not figured out how to deal with everything, you know? Everyone is always asking how I am, how I’m feeling, or if today has been a good day… It gets really tiring day after day. I get that it’s supposed to mean well, but you have no idea how much I’d wish to just be ignored.” Charlie closed his eyes, his head coming to rest on the window. 

“Good luck with that shite! We’re Shelby’s!”

They both laughed before ending the conversation. Damon was right: being a Shelby meant everyone knew you, was looking for you around every corner, wanted to be you, or wanted to kill you. It was quite the life to live.

* * *

An hour and a half later, both Shelby boys were climbing into the car after the last errand stop. After the first one, Damon had taken over for his brother when it came to the legwork of their mother’s requests. When an old family friend got to plaguing Charlie with questions about his time in the Royal Marines, he decided it would probably go quicker of Damon was the face of the operation. 

“A’right, so what’s next?”

“We just need to run to the bank then we’re done.”

“Celebrate with a drink after?”

Charlie smirked, “Like you need to ask.”

With renewed vigor, both Damon and Charlie wasted no time getting the foundation’s deposit into the bank so that they could have some playtime. There was only one place a Shelby would be caught drinking and that was The Garrison. They were royalty there, so why would they go anywhere else? Plus, there was never a shortage of drama or gossip to wet one’s pallet. 

“God be damned, if it ain’t the feckin’ Shelby brothers! Welcome my boys! Welcome!”

Damon was headed towards the bar while Charlie opted to slip into the seclusion of the snug instead. He wanted a drink, not prattle on with everyone and their mother… No sooner had he sat down did the service window to the room open. 

“If it ain’t Charlie Shelby! Been a long time since I’ve seen you, lad! I swear you two look more like your Da every time I see ya.” 

Earl Landon had been employed at The Garrison since before Charlie had gone into the service. He was a rather talkative man; always had a way of making one forget about what ailed them and equally as good at pouring drinks. 

“Nice to see you’ve not been run off, Earl.”

“Me? Run me off from this place, Mr. Shelby? Bollocks!” He cracked a smile before giving Charlie his blessing. 

“I found you something good, Chuckie,” Damon said rather proud of himself after entering the private room. Though he might not admit it outright, Damon did his best to make his brother happy. They both emulated their father but Damon also couldn’t help but try to mirror Charlie. 

“Please, don’t ever call me that unless you want a few less teeth in your mouth.”

Damon smirked, handing his brother the bottle of whisky. “You’ll like it, it’s very _you_.”

Charlie laughed while inspecting the bottle. “If it makes me numb, I’ll like it.”

Quickly, Damon’s smile turned into a frown, but Charlie cut him off before he had the chance to say anything. “What’d you expect me to say? It was _your_ idea to come here; I wasn’t the one driving.”

“Yeah, but…you agreed.”

“When have you known me to ever turn down a drink?”

The younger man paused, sitting opposite his brother, “Just worried about you, Charlie. You’re my brother, the only one I’ve got. I sometimes fear I’m going to wake up one morning and you’re going to be gone, either by a gun in your mouth or a bottle in your hand.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed, “So what did you hope to accomplish with this detour then?”

“Nothing! I just wanted time with my brother…” They both went still for a moment; each contemplating their next steps. “Charlie, c’mon- I-”

He raised a hand followed by his glass, “Where words hurt, whisky heals.”

“Amen.”

* * *

“Do you remember that time you pissed in the Russian’s shoes?”

Damon near covered the wall with his latest quaff of scotch. “Shit, that’s been a while! Remember how Da had to listen to that old fuck bitch near half the mornin’?”

“You could tell he wanted to laugh the entre time! Mum wasn’t too happy-”

“Pretty sure I’m still in trouble for that…”

With near a bottle down between the two of them, the Shelby brothers had been able to push past their earlier tussle and remark about old shenanigans, often at the expense of the parents or the waitstaff.

“Ah, shit-,” Charlie remarked in a sobering tone while looking at this watch.

“What?”

“I told mum we’d be home before dinner.” 

“Haha, whoops-” Damon, drunker than he realized, thew back another double and laughed to himself, replaying old memories drug up from years past.

Charlie just shook his head with a grin, “Yeah, ‘whoops’. C’mon, we better be off. Give me the keys.”

“I’m fine-”

“Ah, the age-old ‘drunk man’s creed’, to that I say, bullshit brother. Plus, I’m not gonna bear Da’s rage at you totaling the car, nor do I have a death wish at present.”

“Heeey, I succeeded then!” When Damon smiled an honest smile, he looked like a boy again; innocent. Right now, he was the little brother and Charlie was the responsible adult. As responsible as a high functioning alcoholic could be… 

Once to his feet, Charlie got Damon’s coat adjusted and lifted the keys from the pocket. By now, The Garrison was in full swing with many of the city’s workers done for the day. It was loud with conversation and music and everyone who was near the snug’s door turned to see who had emerged. 

“Goddamn if it ain’t Charlie Shelby. Heard you got awarded some medals. Just like your father, aren’t ya?”

Charlie merely responded with a “just-doing-what-a-soldier-should-do” and saw his brother out the door before he started to pick a fight with anyone willing. That was the trouble with Damon and too much to drink: everyone would and could be fought. 

“Why- Why’d you push me out the door?”

“Because I don’t feel like getting arrested or wasting my money on bailing your sorry ass out of jail.”

“Pfft- we couldn’ve take ‘em!”

“You’re a fuckin’ mess, brother- a fuckin’ mess.” Charlie laughed, near stuffing Damon into the passenger seat of the town car. “Whatever you do, do not make any mess inside this car. Damon just snickered. It was going to be a long drive home.

* * *

“You drive like an old man.”

“Damon, fuck off-” It was a playful jab, but some truth sprinkled within. They were finally pulling into the drive and Charlie couldn’t have been more thankful. Drinking with his brother was always a fun time but never when one of them had to be the driver.

“We’re late, huh?” Sniggered Damon, his head tipped backwards. “You’re gonna be in trouble.”

Charlie just looked over, his head shaking. “Get out.”

They stumbled back to the house; Damon’s arm over his brother’s shoulder. Once inside the house, they passed by the dining room where their parents were both seated, waiting. 

Grace gave a cough to get their attention and Charlie stopped them both instantly. Her arms were crossed but her expression wasn’t that of anger or disappointment. It seemed like she had anticipated their absence even though Charlie had been serious about his word. 

“I’m sorry-,” he said, giving her his sincere apologies. 

“It’s fine. Just glad to see you both are alright.”

“You’re in trouble, Chuckie.” Damon giggled, not realizing his brother was two seconds away from dropping him. 

“Why don’t you sit down?” At the far end of the table, Charlie sat Damon while he made his way towards the other end where his parents were. “The library said they’d have another one for you in a couple weeks. I was told to tell you they’re doing some kind of charity drive in a few days.” From his own coat pocket, he produced a series of receipts and set them on the table. 

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Thank you for doing that for me.” She looked over the foundation’s financial progress. “I see you both rewarded yourselves.”

“As is customary, yes.”

“And knowing you two, you’ve not had anything to eat.”

Tommy smiled, seeing so much of himself in both of his boys. “Grace, there’s no need to hound them.” 

“Damon’s the one you need to worry about-” 

Grace smiled, “We worry about you both, but thank you for watching over him. He loves you, Charlie. He’s still very much that little boy who follows you around. You have no idea how lost he was when you were gone.”

Silently, the three of them looked up the table to see Damon asleep with his head resting on folded arms. 

“I’ll get him upstairs, make sure he’s alright.”


	3. From America, With Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, these chapters will be longer, with more plot building, I promise. This thing has been sitting as a draft for FAR TOO LONG and I've "lost the plot" in terms of this particular chapter. I've so many things planned for this story and I hope you stick around to see what develops! c:  
> Thank you, as always.

10th of November, 1945

“Seems it snowed last night,” Grace said, standing before one of the great windows of their bedroom. The many trees which littered the grounds of their estate bent to the strong winds, causing Grace to tighten the robe she wore. Tommy, upon hearing his wife's recount of the world outside, moved to stand behind her with and saw for himself the change in scenery. 

“Gonna be a cold procession tomorrow. Sure Charlie’s going to be excited.” Laying a kiss upon his wife’s exposed neck, Tommy looked out to the world beyond. Even from inside the house, the landscape outside made their room feel colder than it was.

“I’m sure he was already dreading the parade as it was... Poor thing.”

“He’ll be fine once he’s back around his boys; it’s the uniform he hates.” Tommy chuckled as Grace turned around in his arms. He could see the look in her eyes and knew there was more she wanted to say. 

“You’re worried about him, I know.” He kissed her, feeling her reluctance to part with him. “I’m sure Charlie has more of a grasp on his life -his circumstances- that we realize. 

Finally, there was the smile he was looking for, “He’s your son. I know.” 

Yet to really sit down with her eldest, Grace sometimes felt like she no longer knew her son. Tommy had done his best to reassure her that all he needed was time and space and he’d eventually come around. Sometimes he wondered if he even believed the things he was saying. Tommy knew the things he had seen in France, but from what he heard, the things Charlie saw first-hand in Germany were unfathomable. 

“Tommy, he drinks too much-” Grace said, no longer able to hold her tongue. “I don’t want to see him drink himself into an early grave!” 

“Hush, he’s a Shelby; we all drink too much.” Again, her husband laughed but Grace didn’t share Tommy’s humour. It may have been a true statement but it did nothing to make her feel any better out the entire situation. 

From a young age, Charlie had always pined to be around his father; they bonded much tighter but she never held any resentment towards either of them. At the end of the day, she feard him keeping things bottled up too tightly and past the point of fixing. 

“I’ll talk to him today if it will make you feel better,” he added, tipping her chin upwards slightly. Even after all these years, she was still just as beautiful as when they met but Tommy hated to see her worry about anything: himself, the boys, the businesses. It wasn't fair to her, he thought. 

“Please. I just want to make sure he knows he doesn’t have to suffer in silence.”

Tommy felt a grimace overtake his features. He knew all too well what that felt like and would have been lying if he didn’t already hold the assumptions that his son had long since nestled into those dark emotions. 

“I’ll do what I can, but if we push too much we won't get anything.”

Down the hall, Charlie sat at the desk in his room, writing a series of letters by hand. He had been up since half past four and to keep his mind on the level, the young man was just trying to stay busy. To his right, lay a list of things he had to accomplish by the end of the day. First on the list, was finishing the notes who were addressed to the parents of his friends he lost in the war. Those soldiers had become Charlie’s brothers when he was forced to be away from his own. That’s what made the loss so much harder; it was just like losing blood from your own family. 

The knock at the door stopped his hand from moving across the paper. Damon’s voice rang out asking if he could come in, which Charlie didn’t deny.

“You’re up early,” Damon remarked upon seeing his brother sitting there behind the desk. “I’m starting to think you sleep in your suits.”

“Just trying to get an early start. I didn’t expect to see you up before noon. Do you know I had to carry you upstairs last night?”

Damon smirked, scratching the back of his neck out of shame. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Won’t be the last either,” Charlie retorted, trying to contain his laughter. His brother agreed that that was a safe assumption, taking a seat on the windowsill. The two of them spent some time discussing their plans for the day as well as the one to follow. Damon didn’t know any of Charlie’s military friends and it almost seemed like the older sibling wanted to keep it that way. It was just something Damon didn’t press. 

“You’re going in before us, yeah?” He yawned, stretching upwards. 

“That’s my plan, anyway. I have some business I need to deal with before everything gets going.” With the last letter signed, Charlie turned back to his brother who had been trying to see what it was he had been working on. 

“Anything you need help with? Anything I can help do?”

“There’s no help for me,” Charlie said very matter of factly, later cracking a smile being unable to hide how much be believed his own words. "Thanks, though."

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Grace and Tommy were sitting together in the library having tea in an attempt to remove the chill from their bones. The estate had been still and it seemed everyone had been thankful for the slow day. However, Grace found herself going over the next week’s appointments as she sat in quiet contemplation while peering into her teacup.

“You’re doing it again, Grace.” Tommy was leaned against the window, looking over from time to time to see why his wife was so silent. He knew the look he saw and the thoughts it was connected to. 

“Am I?” She chuckled, lifting the cup to her lips. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Of course,” Tommy said sarcastically, crossing the room to answer the ringing phone. Grace just smiled, giving him a loving look as he passed by. 

“Hello?”

“‘ello, Da!”

“Victoria?” Tommy’s tone explained the amount of surprise he was experiencing as his eyes darted to his wife’s. She put her cup and saucer on the side table and quickly moved to be beside her husband. Neither one of them could believe this surprising call. “We weren’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything a’right?”

On the other end of the phone, The Shelby’s middle child Victoria called from her hotel in Hollywood, California. “Yeah, I’m fine! I was just calling to let you all know I’ll be flying home in a few days! The director pushed hard to get the filming done so he could stay under budget! I wanted to be home before tomorrow but the earliest I can get there is Tuesday. Tell Chuckie I’m sorry, please!”

“Don’t you want to tell him yourself?” 

“I want it to be a surprise! I wasn’t going to tell you and mum but I decided against it.” Her bubbly voice brought a smile to her father’s face; Grace too was very happy to hear what she could through the receiver.

“We won’t say anything.”

“Oh, thank you! I better let you go. I have a lot to pack and arrange still, but I’ll give you a call before I leave for the airport! Glad I was able to catch you!”

Parents and daughter said their goodbyes leaving Tommy and Grace sitting in renewed bliss. Victoria Elizabeth Anna Shelby was right in the middle of her two brothers; two years younger than Charlie, and two years older than Damon. Victoria was an actress who had finally begun to make a name for herself in Hollywood and was reveling in newfound celebrity and popularity. Her parents had hated to see her go, especially so far away, but with the war, the bombings, and the family businesses it had been a blessing in disguise. Tori, as she was affectionately called by her brothers, was a Shelby through and through and had a wild streak of her own. It was something her parents knew all too well. 

“The boys will be so happy to see her. Shame she’s going to miss tomorrow,” Grace said still with her head against Tommy’s shoulder. Victoria was a textbook daddy’s girl and had him wrapped around her finger. There were times when Grace worried about her eldest son after coming back from the war, but deep down it was her daughter that brought on the most panic. “Do you think she’ll stay this time?”

“Is that what you want?” Tommy asked, knowing now that Charlie had returned what it would mean for their collective enterprises. Most fathers would see their daughters as treasures that needed protecting and shielding from the outside world. Tommy Shelby acknowledged this but also knew the child Grace and himself had raised. Victoria knew her way around a gun as well as a conversation. She would be back at home in more ways than one.

“I-” She staggered. It was as if both Tommy and herself were having similar thoughts as to the future their daughter would have if she came back permanently. Victoria had the reputation of making men fall head over heels for and as soon as they were smitten, she’d move on to the next target. There was a reason she was called the Black Widow of Birmingham. 

“I know you want what I want, Grace, and your fears aren’t misplaced. We just need to trust her. She’ll be a’right.”

“I suppose you have a point.” With a kiss against his cheek, Grace went back to the sofa for her tea but her mind was a mess of thoughts. No parent wanted anything foul to befall their children and Grace was no different. Not all family businesses operated like the Shelby’s did either...

**Author's Note:**

> 
>     Posting this short chapter to test the waters and see how this newest brainchild goes. Please, don't hesitate to comment on your thoughts or give suggestions. As it stands, this isn't going to be my main focus in terms of my _Peaky Blinders_ fanfiction children. However, that doesn't mean it's going to be half-assed! Thank you for your time.
> 
> 💕


End file.
